


The Evils Of Technology

by Leni



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Long-Distance Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 20:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2441288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rory usually liked to be able to keep in touch with her loved ones no matter where her current assignment had taken her. ...and then there was Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Evils Of Technology

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mahmfic at [Comment Fic/a> . Prompt: **Signs Your Neighbor is a Serial Killer.**](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/563860.html?thread=79325588#t79325588)

Rory usually liked to be able to keep in touch with her loved ones no matter where her current assignment had taken her. 

Her mother had made it her mission to keep her updated on life in Stars Hollow in 140 characters or less, complete with links to the pictures of the inn, the diner, and Kirk's latest misadventures. She also e-mailed her a daily goodnight with a full-screen shot of whichever 'healthy' food Luke was pushing on her that day. In Lorelai's mind, she was making sure her child kept regular hours by threatening to sic Luke's vegetarian side on her the moment she came back home.

The worst part, Rory thought, was that she often did go to bed early, just so she'd have an excuse not to open the attachment.

Meanwhile, Lane told her the more normal news; the births and weddings, with her usual brand of commentary that made Rory snort in laughter half the world away. She often had to shake her head in disbelief, wondering how the woman with the acidic tongue could be the same that kept her Facebook profile overflowing with videos of the twins practicing their first tunes at her old drum set.

Her grandparents wouldn't be left behind, and willingly embraced the latest technology in order to follow her around the globe. This is how Rory ended up restoring her Friday appointment with her grandparents, though they'd exchanged a lavishly set dinner table for the latest sound system and a screen bigger than most cathedral windows Rory had ever seen. She spent three days teaching them how to Skype, after giving up on Facebook and other social pages. 

After all that, she still heard from her mother, between a series of alternating giggles and pitying sighs, that her grandparents had managed to burn down their brand new computer, after which her grandfather had hired en expert and proceeded to drive the poor man crazy with his questions. They kept the guy in retainer, too, Lorelai claimed. He was contractually obligated to spend at least an hour every Friday afternoon making sure everything is in order.

After hearing the story, Rory flew down to the States for a surprise overnight visit with her grandparents. They were crazy, the two of them, but they loved her and she didn't show them how much she loved them back often enough.

And then there was Paris...

While not in the same category as the others, sheer persistence had added Rory's old school mate and nemesis to the list of people for whom she always made time..

Though, right now, Rory was regretting that decision.

Paris had gotten... restless... through her maternity leave.

It was scary, really.

The messages had started a couple weeks ago, innocuously enough, with: _**There's a new guy moving in next door.**_

...which, two days later, was followed by...

_**New neighbor avoids my gaze. I haven't even talked to him yet.** _

..and, a few hours later...

_**New neighbor didn't return my greeting on the sidewalk.** _

Which probably meant that Paris's other neighbors had warned the guy already, but Paris had refused to believe it was that simple.

_**New neighbor lives by himself and didn't seem willing to let me in. He has very few furniture but lots of cleaning supplies.** _

_**New neighbor declined my offer to hold a 'welcome to the block' party. He claimed he didn't like to mingle with strangers.** _

_**Rory- I think he's hiding something.** _

_**He's DEFINITELY sneaking around to avoid me. But I'm on his case now!** _

Which was followed by a series of updates as Paris followed the poor fellow around. Her years in investigative reporting had come to the fore, as Paris interviewed everyone remotely connected to the guy, from the doorman at his workplace to the cleaning service he'd hired.

Rory couldn't even blame those people for breaking confidentiality. She had broken under Paris's tirelessness before. Heck, just last week she'd confessed to Paris that she was exchanging increasingly flirty e-mails with Logan since last Christmas. She hadn't even told her mother yet!

_**Rory- moral dilemma! Call the police or get the breakthrough of my career?** _

When Rory had cautiously called her for details, Paris had given her a day-by-day account of how she'd concluded that her new neighbor had moved in with the sole purpose of getting rid of the bodies from his latest murdering spree.

Rory had convinced her to sit on it until she was absolutely sure, and then dialed Doyle's private number.

"What's going on?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure Nan's just said her first word-"

"She's five weeks old, Doyle," Rory had snapped. "I meant Paris, and the neighbor. What's up with that?"

"Ah, yes. Her new project."

Doyle had claimed to be okay with the situation. He'd finally gotten some peace and quiet, he said, not to mention some alone time with his new daughter. "It's for the best, really. Paris needs a distraction." Then he'd admitted that _he_ needed to get Paris out of the house. As long as she didn't actually get convicted, he told her, Doyle fully supported his wife's interests.

"She's survived twelve restraining orders so far," Doyle had said at the end of their conversation, "she can handle a new one."

Rory had reminded herself that she was too far away for any repercussion to befall on her, and left the crazy pair to their craziness.

Now Paris was back.

Her newest text message betrayed her growing anxiety by its capital letters: _**His windows are CLOSED. ALL his windows. ALL OF THEM.**_

Rory sighed and typed back, _**It's after 11pm in the East Coast. He probably wants to block out the noises from outside.**_

_**Or he doesn't want us TO HEAR THE SCREAMS.** _

_**Or,**_ Rory wrote quickly, before Paris called 911 again, _**he's probably noticed you're spying on him**_

A minute later: _**THAT MEANS I AM NEXT. I must prepare.**_

Rory groaned and tried one last time.

_**Your neighbor is not a serial killer. Go to sleep, Paris.** _

It didn't work, of course.

Three hours later, Rory's phone started up again:

_**Tell Doyle he must bail me out if he wants to have sex with me ever again. Ever!** _

(How she had kept her phone through booking, Rory didn't want to know.)

...and five minutes later...

_**Tell Paris she said she was never having sex with me again, during Nan's birth. I have her sworn oath on film. I HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE.** _

Rory read both messages and shook her head, wondering whether it would be more appropriate to bang her head against the nearest surface or start laughing. In the end, because she _was_ Paris's best friend, she called Doyle again.

"Are you _nuts_?"

"It's called strategy, Gilmore."

"It's called a prelude to divorce!"

"She'll need to talk to me for that," Doyle answered. "I want her to _be_ here, not skulking about around that guy. He's too tall, and weirdly handsome. If he were a murderer, he'd be a successful one... You really think she'll focus back on us now?"

Rory almost whimpered. "Didn't you say...?"

"That was then, this is now. Keep up, Gilmore!"

Rory shook her head. "You know, I don't care. Just tell me you will take care of the situation, or whether I should call Grandpa for help."

Doyle huffed. "I'll do it. Give me another day?"

"You _do_ know that Paris has been researching ways to hide a body in the suburbs, right?"

"Eight more hours?" he wheedled.

"Fine."

Rory sighed as she hung up. 

_**Hang in there, Paris.** _

Two hours later, Rory watched as her cell phone flew through the window, taking Paris's latest message with it:

_**Rory- I think my cell mate wants to kill me...** _

Just... no. 

 

The End  
11/10/14


End file.
